Page 183 of Charlie

"I'll need to brush up on my handfasting knots, but I wouldn't miss it for the world." He ushers us toward the door. "I have a date coming for dinner, so I'm going to be rude and ask you to leave. Send me an invitation, and I'll be there."

I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a peck on his cheek. "Not a word to my mother, Arty. She doesn't know yet."

"I would love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation," he laughs. "Good luck, Charlie." He pats my cheek and then releases me, waving goodbye as we drive away.

I feel like a million-pound weight lifts from my shoulders. Now to get through the divorce and tell my parents about the wedding. I blow out a controlled breath. I can do this.

"That was a work of art, Charlie. Truly." Cam's voice is soft, filled with awe.

"Draw me like one of your French girls," Lach whispers, turning to bat his eyelashes at me.

"I hate to interrupt whatever that was, but I need to know where we're going," Jack says from the driver's seat.

"Are you guys up for checking out the local bar? I'm not ready to go back to the house and risk bumping into my mom." They all agree enthusiastically, and I give Jack the directions, snuggling into Cam's side. It's so strange coming back here when I've changed so much, but everything has stayed exactly the same. I'm looking forward to getting through the next week, going home, and starting a new life with these three incredible men.

I balk when we turn into the parking lot of the bar. It's way busier than I was expecting it to be on a weeknight. The chance of running into someone I know is exponentially higher, but instead of apprehension, a reckless thrill races down my spine.

We order our drinks at the bar before heading to the pool tables. I decide not to ruin the fun and instead I let the guys battle it out with the understanding that I'm playing the winner. I sink into a plush chair along the wall, enjoying their banter, shadows enveloping me. Enjoying the view. They're down to only a few balls and empty pint glasses when I spy a familiar face walking toward us. Painted on jeans. Blood-red lips. Tits pushed up as high as they'll go. Fucking Bethany. I sink deeper into my chair, hiding my face in the shadows.

"Hello, boys," she purrs, winding a strand of dark hair around her finger.

Jack lines up his next shot and motions with his head toward his empty glass. "I'll have another beer, please."

Cam and Lach push the empty glasses toward her, rattling off their drink orders. They turn back toward the pool table, dismissing her, cheering loudly when Jack misses his shot. She looks down at the glasses in her hands, then at their backs, trying to decide what to do. Finally, she sighs and spins on her heel, taking the glasses to the bar.

I stifle a giggle with my hand, waiting to see how this will play out.

She comes back loaded with their drinks and sets them on a table, sidling up to Jack. He glances at her, his brow furrowing before understanding dawns on his face. Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he shoves a couple of bills into her hand and murmurs his thanks. Her face turns red, and she backs up a couple of steps until she's standing right in front of me, rethinking her strategy. My heart slams against my chest when Jack roars in victory, the last ball sinking into the pocket with a dull thud.

"It's you and me, baby," he croons, looking at me, the warmth in his whisky eyes doing funny things to my stomach. "If I win, I get to tie you up and lick you within an inch of your life." Cam and Lach protest, not liking being left out of the fun. "And then these two knuckleheads can see if they can make you come again. Deal?" He walks toward me, hand outstretched, not even seeing Bethany.

"Deal." Bethany reaches to take Jack's hand, but he jerks it back, struggling to mask the distaste sliding over his features.

"We don't need any more drinks right now."

"I'm not a waitress," she huffs, hands on her hips.

"Did you think I was talking to you?" he asks, incredulity dripping from his words.

"Well, who else would you have been talking to?"

"Hey, Bethany." My voice comes out smooth as silk, the exact opposite of how I feel on the inside. She spins toward me, staggering back several steps before regaining her composure.

"Charlie." Complex emotions shift across her face.

I stand, linking my arms around Jack's neck. "I'll take you up on that offer. What do I get if I win?"

"Whatever you fucking want," he growls, kissing my neck.

Bethany scowls and turns toward Cam and Lach, plastering on a fake smile. "Do you guys want to find somewhere a little quieter?"

"Bethany, are you still hoping to get some of what Jack offered?" Lach asks, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"I’d like that," she says, her voice cracking with lust.

"Good. You can watch us get Charlie off more times than you can count. Maybe it'll make up for her having to see Robbie stick his tiny dick in you."

Heat crawls up her cheeks. "He does not have a tiny dick," she lies through her teeth, her voice pure venom.

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